It was a beautiful sunny day. Spring was coming, and it was good in that hillside restaurant.
Below them the country glistened like silver, in a sacred Sunday silence.
Giorgia, who ate slowly, thinking more about talking, was gradually emptying herself from months of tension, of repressed anger.
That man standing in front of her was her father. A father she had known well, and then had lost for two long years. In those two years she had acknowledged that she had also lost…



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Dreamer, Speaker, Doer — Writer of erotic short stories.